Cottage on Gooseberry Bay: Charmed Summer by Kathi Daley (fb2 epub reader .TXT) 📕

form, and I had my own customer to count out tickets for. Things got busy at this point, so our conversation paused, but once the line had been taken care of, Darla jumped back in.

“So what sorts of things do you look into as a PI?” she asked.

I shrugged. “A variety of things. I’m currently working on helping a woman track down the owner of a charm bracelet.” I took a few minutes to go over what we had and what we were looking for. I’d spoken to Ellery this morning, and she’d shared that she’d run into a bit of a dead-end as well. She’d been showing the bracelet around town, but while there were some who had theories relating to a specific charm, no one had been able to match a person with the bracelet. I’d told her when we spoke that I had plans to meet with the man at the ice cream shop once I finished at the event at the park, and she shared that she wanted to talk to few more vendors on the boardwalk this morning.

Darla and I chatted about my cases, at least the ones I felt I could share, and her job as a bookkeeper for the town. She knew all about the missing boys, and she shared her concern that they might have met with foul play. I didn’t mention that I was looking into things, but I did ask questions about the parents of the missing kids, and some of her comments only served to cement the fact that there had been trouble in all three households before the teens disappearing.

Around noon, Darla was sent to work one of the booths, and I was left alone with the tickets. By this point, the majority of folks who planned to show up were already there, so foot traffic at the ticket booth was minimal. At one-thirty, Jemma came over after being relieved of game duty.

“How’s it going?” I asked.

“Fine. I have to admit I’m beginning to get bored. It was more fun before Darla left.”

“Only thirty more minutes, and then we’re done. I’ll sit with you until then.”

“So you’re done for the day?”

She nodded. “Things are slowing down. Most of the kids have used up their tickets and are eating or have even headed home. Did you ever get the chance to eat anything?”

“No. I figured I’d grab something after I was done.”

“I haven’t eaten either. Let’s pop by the ice cream shop like we planned and then we can head over to one of the restaurants on Main Street and grab some lunch.”

Jemma and I tracked Hope down once we were given the okay by one of the other organizers to shut down the ticket booth.

“Thank you both so much,” she said.

“Happy to help,” I responded. “It was fun to see all the kids come through. Do they have this type of event often?”

“Three or four times a year. There’s the fundraiser in May, the event in the park on the Fourth of July, and, of course, the harvest festival. Sometimes, they do an indoor event at the elementary school just before the Christmas break. Personally, I think four is a bit much. It’s a lot of work putting this all together.”

“Maybe you should eliminate the July event since the traveling carnival comes through in July. It might not be here for the Fourth of July, but it does feature similar games.”

“I might suggest that to the committee,” Hope said. “We could still have the fireworks and the picnic but skip the games. Of course, the kids won’t be happy about that. Maybe we could do another event that would engage them, but not be as much work.”

The three of us continued to chat for a few minutes, and then Jemma and I said our goodbyes and headed for the ice cream shop. I’d been told that Tony Trauner would be on-site today. I just hoped he would be. The other employees I’d seen to date were much too young to have known or remember anyone who might have worked for the old shop back in the nineties.

“There was a Naomi who worked here back in the nineties, but her last name was Swenson,” Tony informed us after we explained about the bracelet and the woman we were trying to track down.

“So you don’t think she could be the woman who owned the bracelet we described?” I asked.

“No. I don’t think so. Naomi Swenson was a local girl who worked summers for me all through high school. She never left the area and, in fact, still lives here, so I suppose you can speak to her, but I know for a fact that she was never pregnant as a teen or young woman. She married two years ago, but she still doesn’t have any children.”

Well, that was disappointing. We were running out of names, and I really wanted to get this wrapped up today.

“Does the name Rosalie Watts mean anything to you?” Jemma asked about the last name on our original list.

“Sure. Although, Rosalie went by Rose. I don’t know anyone who referred to her by her given name.”

I glanced at Jemma. She lifted a brow.

“So did Rose work here?” I asked Tony.

He nodded. “Rose only worked here for one summer, but I remember her. She was such a sweet thing, who just happened to be going through a tough time.”

“Rosalie Watts completed the Bay to Boardwalk Run, and she completed the Brewster’s Books Reading Challenge,” I said to the man. “She might be the one we’re looking for.” I pulled up the photos on my phone. “One of the charms is even a rose. We thought that the rose represented a flower shop or garden, but it could simply have been included due to her name.”

“Rose was seventeen that